The Road To Immortality
by RustedThunder
Summary: Follow those who will become the defenders of Remnant from the Grimm as they take their first tentative steps on the winding road to immortality


The Road to Immortality

(A RWBY FANFICTION STORY)

[Because Why Not.]

*Notes*

Far=Father

Mor=Mother

More is coming later

*End Notes*

Chapter 1:

_The First Laid Stones_

My Far was, an eloquent man. Despite what some people would think upon seeing him charge the Grimm head on with only his aura and his twin war axe/short-swords Vinterens Vrede, he truly had a way with words that made me give rapt attention to his every word. Even when I was a child who would much rather race through the ever-frost surrounding our home in the Xeadas Mountain range of North Mistral. When he spoke I always stopped to listen, much to the annoyance of my Mor if her mumbled words were any indication. He would give me wisdom about the life on the mountains and how to stay safe, keep warm. My Mor would give advice about some of the lesser things of the mountain. Herself not a native like me or Far, rather choosing to move to the mountains from the deserts of Vacuo after they both fell in love.

They were both Huntsman. One of the Desert. One of the Mountain. Both of differing extremes. I like to think that I embody pieces of both my parents. The hardiness of both my Far and Mor, being able to withstand the weather both of them work best in. It's always funny to me to wander out into the snow in nary but jeans and a long-sleeve to turn around and watch my Mor be bundled in comparatively thicker clothes made of wools.

My Far wasn't much better. Although I have only been to Vacuo once to meet my Mor's parents, I remember turning to my Far and seeing him sweat so much in what my Mor called 'cold' weather for the region, while I had no drops yet.

I like to think I inherited their fighting spirit. My Far found it funny that while both he and Mor fought up close with his Vinterens Vrede and her Brugmansia, I prefer to fight long range with my Paleltumia Ventos. A custom sniper rifle my Far helped me make when I was Eight and trained me extensively. When it was first made, being young, I asked him what it was named, and he told me in the way that always drew my attention;

"That is the question isn't it Jorden? What is it named? Every good weapon deserves a good name to set its distinction from all the rest. I believe, Paleltumia Ventos shall make a very good name indeed, do you not think so?"

"Yes Far! But, I…I have another question."

"Let it out young one, there is no need to be nervous. I will never laugh at your questions, only at how spry you are filling me with fatherly joy."

"What does Palel-Paleleltum-Paleleltumamia Veneltoast mean?"

My Far smiled at that as I watched with advent curiosity.

"Paleltumia Ventos, my son."

I remember pouting at my Far.

"There is no need to be upset, I did not expect you to say it correctly. Not yet. It is a set of unknown words to you, so mis-pronunciation is expected, especially with you so young. No, Paleltumia Ventos is a combination of some of the old tongues and it means 'Frostbite Winds'."

"Frostbite Winds?"

"Yes Jorden."

"What about yours Far? Vintern Vreday?"

My Far laughed again.

"Vinterens Vrede is more of a nickname for me that I adopted for use of my weapons. It means Winter's Anger. But I prefer Winter's Wrath. Each blade however does have their own name. Raseri, and Berolige."

He could see the confusion on my young face.

"Rage and Calm."

My looks take after my parents. I have my Mors softer cheek bones but a more squared jaw I got from my Far. I took my Far's tall stocky build and stand 192cm tall with broad shoulders and chest. I took my hair colour from my Far and I like to wear my hair as long as my Mor's, so I have shoulder length ash grey hair. Some may find it surprising that I have a full beard but I don't. The mountains get cold, and while I may be able to deal with the cold, it's still nice to feel warm. I look down to my clothes. Padded Grey boots, Black cargo pants with white patches, Grey and White digital camouflage long-sleeve shirt, Snow shatter pattern zip up hoodie, hair ties on both wrists for if I feel like tying my hair up or to get it out of my face. White and Grey neck gaiter. Snow steel knuckled combat gloves looped through a belt loop on my cargo pants and Black goggles looped in the belt loop next to them. A black armband on my right arm.

I felt the cross body back pack dig in slightly with the waist belt firmly secured, the water, food, ammo clips, dust, torch, Raseri, fire supplies, weapon add-ons like other scopes and a silencer.

I asked my Far what the point of a silencer was when hunting Grimm once.

"Because Jorden. People say that the Grimm are mindless beasts, that may be true. But they have instinct. They hear the shot of your rifle, their instincts will make them come running. We may be technologically superior, but we will never have the advantage against the Grimm."

Each piece of equipment made leaning back uncomfortable. I kept Ventos in my hands instead of in its holster which would drape it across my back, left shoulder to right hip, the opposite way to my pack with the barrel under it. I traced the word my Far engraved into the handle when he deemed my fit enough to own my rifle. 'Elsker'. Love.

Although I would have preferred to use a weapon closer to what Far and Mor use. When I discovered my Semblance. Perception greater than that even of the most advanced Atlas Robot. I could perceive things easier, over time instantly tell where things could go and how fast they would move. I can… see faster, for use of a very stupid term. My reflexes improve when I use my Semblance. Though only really when I am still. Able to move my scope to line up a killshot on a Grimm instantly. The mountains gave me good practice with my Semblance. I was able to get a headshot on a Grimm 700 metres away in a snow forest during a blizzard without eye protection. Granted the Grimm was standing still…and could have been a tree. It was a blizzard.

My Far made a second rifle for me that he called an 'Ursa Rifle' that he would give me when he deemed me ready.

I love my Far.

I miss my Far possibly even more.

But I will make him proud and be the best damn Huntsman I can be.

My name is Jorden Mickael Russett and I will pave my path on the road to immortality.

* * *

More to come later, I've had this for a while and wanted to post it.


End file.
